Freelance Triad
by Just Another Soul
Summary: They were the epitome of a triad, three entities bonded by fate, three souls that coexisted with one another. A series of Rotton/Sawyer/Shenhua centrics telling how the trio came together.
1. Sawyer x Rotton

**Freelance Triad**

Disclaimer: Black Lagoon and its characters © Rei Hiroe

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**1. CURIOSITY**

The heavy scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke wafted through the air in the Yellow Flag. It was a smell Sawyer "the Cleaner" was familiar with, having cleaned in many bars, including this one, in the past. The only thing missing from this familiar atmosphere was the stench of blood. She learned from numerous past cleaning jobs that Two Hand's temper was insufferable.

People paid little mind to the small young woman who walked in, a somber little apparition dressed in striped purple sleeves and a frilly black skirt, a pair of laced black boots, skin nearly white as a sheet and lips red as blood, a choker of scarred flesh about her neck, a tangled mess of black curls on her head with bangs framing her seemingly lifeless blue eyes. Her choice of dress was odd compared to the more casual choices of the Yellow Flag patrons, but they cared very little. Aside from the occasional odd glance and mocking sneer, she didn't hold anyone's attention.

Good.

She stayed close to the shadows and looked around. She observed that the bar was packed to the gills with bounty hunters and mercenaries, people she would usually be working _for_ rather than alongside. It was a rare instance for her to be hunting the prey instead of disposing of the corpse.

One hunter she noticed in particular was a tall woman with long, silky black hair in a red dress and white jacket. It was Shenhua, a Taiwanese freelancer she had the pleasure of working with on multiple occasions. Shenhua had always brought her the most memorable jobs from Mr. Chang.

The Asian woman took a seat at a table hosting a large hulk of a man who could have easily passed for a body builder. A man with messy blonde hair with a scar across his left eye and a tiger-print shirt accompanied Shenhua and sat down beside her. By this point, they both had their backs turned to her.

As Sawyer stood off in the shadows of the bar, the Taiwanese woman looked over her shoulder. For a split second, there was a gleam of sorts in Shenhua's eyes as they settled on Sawyer, as though she recognized the girl from somewhere... But she didn't seem to let her thoughts linger—at least that was what Sawyer thought, and the Taiwanese woman turned her attention back to the table.

Sawyer shrugged inwardly. That sort of reaction was to be expected. All the times Shenhua, or anyone else for that matter, saw her was when the small body disposal expert was dressed in her cleaning clothes, appearing to be some sort of corrupt surgeon wearing a bloody apron and a mask and goggles concealing her face. This little stint in the Yellow Flag was the first time she had gone out into the open in her gothic attire, and without the presence of her trademark chainsaw, she knew no one would recognize her as Roanapur's infamous Sawyer "the Cleaner". It was just as well. It wasn't her style to want or attract too much attention.

She scanned the interior of the bar again. There were still a few more hunters, some men with concealing motorcycle helmets and a scraggly type missing a few teeth with a bandanna of the American flag wrapped around his head. Next, her attention was drawn to the open bar itself. The barkeep, Bao, seemed spectacularly unamused as Sawyer saw Two Hand bickering with a nun from the Rip-Off Church, before those two briskly exited the bar. The nun didn't seem too invested in their conversation and shrugged off Two Hand's irritating verbal prying. The wannabe cowboy they bumped into the on the way out didn't appear to appreciate the invasion of his space or lack of courtesy, and he cursed silently. Sawyer blinked and an emotion almost resembling resentment washed over her. From the way he carried himself, he was some idiot trying to pass himself off as a serious criminal. She knew the type and found herself hoping she would have to do a little "cleaning up" once the hunt of over.

She continued to scan, and her eyes came upon a table in a far off corner. There were two glasses of milk on top of it. It was unconventional for a bar, but she supposed drinking milk was a wiser option than getting hammered before a bounty hunting job. She noted that the table was occupied by two men, one of them an obese male with short light blonde hair in a light green shirt, who had his back turned to her. The other... was...

A man with silver hair clad in dark clothing, a heavy black trench coat draped over a blue shirt, she saw the color of his pants and boots matched the color of his coat as he rested his legs on the top of the table. He momentarily pressed the index finger of his right hand against his sunglasses to push them up the bridge of his nose ever so slightly, revealing the silver rings on his fingers. He exuded a cool aura, composed; the man's appearance and the way he held himself reminded her of a character out of an action movie, or a male host.

How odd, Sawyer thought. She had never seen him in this city before. Who was he?

The man detected her gaze and looked straight at her, giving a slow nod towards her in acknowledgment. Sawyer looked away and turned her attention to the floor, pursing her lips and suddenly wringing her hands. It had nothing to do with the dapper mystery man in black. Nope, not at all.

Still, she wondered where he came from. Over the years she worked as a cleaner, she had, at the every least, a vague idea of the hunters who resided in the city. She'd laid eyes on most of these killers at least once or twice, but never that silver-haired man or the guy sitting across from him.

Sawyer did want to know who he—they were, how exactly they fit into this city, but it wasn't her style to talk to strangers. She preferred subtle approaches and observations. She supposed she would learn soon enough when everyone went into the field as a group.

She noticed that an argument was beginning to erupt near the table where Shenhua was sitting. The cowboy had been too serious about the cheap 1,000 dollar job everyone was here for, for entertainment rather than monetary gain. The picture of the Indian woman they were supposed to hunt was left forgotten on the table while all the mercenaries ganged up on the wannabe cowboy.

No one noticed as Sawyer walked over to Shenhua's table, not even the adept Taiwanese freelancer herself. The small gothic cleaner quietly pulled up a chair and sat more or less beside the man with the body builder-like physique.

The argument was reaching its peak.

"Shouldn't you be fuckin' cows back on the range?"

"Damn you!"

"Pretty fucking bossy for a guy who just stepped off the plane!"

"I don't like his style!"

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY, YOU BASTARDS!"

Sawyer blinked in reaction to the cowboy's outburst. How droll. This had nothing to do with the hunt or the hunters.

Quickly, she pulled out her hand held Ultravoice and placed it to her scarred neck.

"**If you want us to listen... you can start by introducing us to new faces... sitting over there.**" She gestured to the table where the dark mystery man sat with her dark blue eyes.

There, a comment executed with a subtle touch. After all, it was relevant to their hunt to know who they were all running with, and it wasn't as though the young woman had any ulterior motives hidden beneath the words.

She was just curious. That was all...

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**A/N: **Smooth, Sawyer, real smooth. "Introduce us to the new faces", huh?

_Freelance Triad_ is going to be divided into 4 parts focusing on each "dynamic pairing" of the trio. Just in case Sawyer succeeded with her subtlety or if it didn't come across as clearly as I'd hoped, this chapter was focused on Sawyer/Rotton. The next chapter will be Sawyer/Shenhua.

Cheers.


	2. Sawyer x Shenhua

**2. REVERENCE**

Nothing could match the elegance and craftsmanship of a well forged blade. It was a passion that bordered on obsession. Shenhua always admired the skill and dedication that went into turning raw metal into a masterpiece, a weapon as fierce and unyielding as the mountains. Alone, it was without equal. Coupled with an expert warrior, it was an unstoppable force that knew no bounds. Rarely could she find anything more beautiful in the world than a blade, and rarely was there anything more entrancing to her than the art of wielding one.

Which made it all the more unpleasant to work with so many gunmen.

At the very least, she told herself that these men were real hunters, unlike that jackass cowboy from Florida. How dare he try to offer chump change to chase down that counterfeiter when they had found out Two Hand and the Rip-Off nun were the body guards. What fool would come to Roanapur and talk of hunts without learning about the top predators? Any true killer for hire would know what was necessary to bring them down, what was needed if they had any hopes of survival when they went to raid the warehouse by the docks.

Yet as she saw them gathering themselves and showing off their firearms to one another, she inwardly grimaced. She would never fully understand the appeal of guns. It was a soulless weapon to her. How could squeezing a trigger compare to the rush of cold steel slicing into flesh, how could blood leaking from a bullet hole compare to the flourish of a bright red streak making its way across the ground or splattering across her cheek? That was the mark of a warrior.

Shenhua knew her art was a dying one, something becoming more and more confined to fantasy than reality. It was saddening, but she reminded herself that now was not the time to dwell on such matters. Her priorities were to be set on the hunt for that counterfeiter. It was no longer a cheap 1,000 dollar stroll. Now that the price was changed to 30 grand a head, this was a real job.

Now, what to do? The Taiwanese woman scanned the dark alleys and observed the numerous hunters conversing amongst themselves and pairing off into teams. They all agreed to swarm the warehouse as an overall group, but what was a little friendly competition between mercenaries? After all, not _all_ of them could get the 30 grand. Still, Shenhua could not decide on a hunter to partner with for the oncoming raid. Since her chauffeur and fellow mercenary in the tiger-print shirt had been shot by the Rip-Off nun, she had to find a new hunting partner.

She couldn't form a solid strategy with anyone she saw so far. She was aware most of the hunters here preferred using high caliber firearms, something suited for long distance combat. Helpful, but it didn't partner well with her melee preferences.

In addition, with other hunters she wasn't at all familiar with –such as that male host with the trench coat and sunglasses– she didn't know what their precise fighting methods were like. She wouldn't know how well their skills would complement and assist her in battle until the raid, and now was not the time to experiment with a newcomer if that Twinkie girl from Lagoon was involved.

Shenhua held her chin contemplatively. Out of all these hunters, surely there would be at least _one_ she could plan an effective strategy with.

In the furthest corner of her peripheral vision, Shenhua saw a small shadow and a metallic shine. She registered it instantly. Quickly, the woman fully turned her head toward the shadow and a slow smile spread across her face. One glance at a weapon could reveal a great deal about the person who used it, and Shenhua liked what she saw. A blade for the modern age, what an interesting weapon...

"Sawyer!" Shenhua chirped. "Come here, want to talk to you!"

Sawyer "the Cleaner" quietly stepped over and Shenhua's eyes widened appreciatively when she got a closer look at the small woman's chainsaw.

Sawyer said nothing, her half-lidded, dark blue eyes looking up at Shenhua.

"So sorry I not recognize you in bar earlier. Never see you without mask before," Shenhua said in her usual broken pattern, smiling. "You surprise everyone. No one ever guess Sawyer 'the Cleaner' such young girl."

Sawyer shrugged. It was no big deal.

"It strange," Shenhua said. "We work together long time, but I not even know what you look like 'til now. Not know much about you at all, you always so quiet."

Sawyer blinked, wondering what Shenhua was trying to say.

"All I know is that you cleaner who do good job," Shenhua went on. The Taiwanese woman's eyes glimmered as her gaze drifted to the chainsaw. "It not surprising. I know when I walk into your plant first time that you take good care of saw. Someone who keep blade in condition, can trust to do job right."

Sawyer blinked once more, still wondering where Shenhua was going with this.

"I know that look. I stalling too much, yes?" Shenhua laughed. "We both take good care and use blade. Have common ground, understanding melee combat. Make good partner, I think. Want to work together with me on hunt?"

Suddenly, Sawyer looked down to avert eye contact with Shenhua, lowering her chainsaw and pursing her lips. She maintained a dour expression, but it was a mask Sawyer wore to hide that she was hesitant about accepting the invitation. It was... flattering, to say the least; Sawyer had the pleasure of working on cleaning jobs delivered by Shenhua many times in the past, and she knew the Taiwanese woman was one of the greatest freelance hunters in Roanapur.

However, that was just it. Shenhua was a _hunter_, someone who took down prey for a living. Sawyer may have possessed hunting instincts and had the confidence to go out on this job, but the small woman's primary occupation was _cleaning_. Sawyer was adept at ridding the city of corpses and unwanted vermin, but Shenhua was in an entirely different class altogether. While she did admire the Taiwanese freelancer, Sawyer was also intimidated. Shenhua was a top predator, as powerful and graceful as they came, a tigress in her natural habitat. Compared to her, Sawyer was just a common house cat.

But, it would be an interesting experience to hunt alongside someone of Shenhua's caliber, and she seemed to be as passionate about her knives as Sawyer was about her chainsaw...

Sawyer's train of thought broke when Shenhua boldly cupped the girl's cheek in her right hand.

"It be very fun, don't you think?" Shenhua asked, smiling gently.

After a second of thought, Sawyer gave a small nod in agreement.

Seeing this, Shenhua's own dark blue eyes narrowed and her ruby red lips parted to reveal pearly, almost fang-like teeth.

Perfect.

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**A/N:** Alternate Chapter Title: _The Art of Courting a Chainsaw Wielding Psycho_

Cheers.


	3. Shenhua x Rotton

**3. COURTESY**

Flashes. Gunshots. Pain, incredible pain.

Those were the only memories Shenhua recalled, coming out of a groggy trance. A mash of white and pale green blurs filled her sight as she tried to focus. More memories flooded her mind: blood, smoke, rubble, an apparition in black.

Soon, her vision cleared and she found herself looking into dark tinted lenses. On reflex, she raised her hand.

There was the harsh sound of knuckles making contact with bone, followed by a collapsing body and the clatter of a chair. Shenhua blinked and assessed her surroundings. She was sitting in a hospital bed, her ride side cluttered with medical equipment she was hooked up to, to monitor her health, the left side occupied by a silver-haired man kneeling on the floor beneath the window as he placed his hand on a toppled chair.

"Oh, it you," Shenhua said in a broken tone, sounding almost disinterested. Yet another memory. The man she had hit, whom she now remembered as Rotton "the Wizard", was the one who had taken her, along with Sawyer, to this hospital after that hunt for the Indian woman was shot to hell. Had he stayed by her side all this time?

Shenhua lowered her hand to rest on the thin blanket covering her from the waist down. She looked down at herself and curled her lip upon realizing she was wearing one of those tacky green hospital gowns. There was an odd sensation in her lower back and the right side of ribcage, not quite unbearable pain, yet horribly uncomfortable nonetheless. A clearer memory washed over. That lousy nun had gotten six shots into her. The Taiwanese woman clenched her teeth in a silent growl.

Rotton stood to his feet and placed the chair back onto its legs. He sat back down at her bedside.

"Is this the customary manner of a mercenary's greeting when they awake from their slumber?" Rotton asked as he rubbed his jaw with a steady look on his face. Shenhua gave him a perplexed glance.

"Speak English, Wizard boy," she snapped.

"You hit me," he said simply.

"... So I did," Shenhua observed, tilting her chin upward and looking at him through the corner of her eye. She supposed she owed the man an apology. "So sorry, I not know it you. Body awake before mind, attack first. Scorpion and frog."

It was Rotton's turn to cast her a perplexed glance.

"It my nature," Shenhua clarified.

"Ah, hunter's instinct. I see," Rotton said. He was still rubbing his jaw. Even in the confines of a hospital bed, the woman could still dole out considerable damage. He was fortunate she hadn't punched his nose in.

"... How long I out?" Shenhua asked suddenly, taking a closer look at the window. It was getting dark. More memories came to her. She had remembered being rushed to the emergency room, falling asleep from the blood loss well before she was given any anesthesia.

"The remainder of the night of the hunt and all of today," Rotton reported. "The surgery went well, though it took some time. It was proclaimed to be a miracle you survived as long as you did considering the amount of blood you lost. The doctor said you will heal in good time so long as you follow the appropriate recovery regimen."

Shenhua only hummed in response, immediately disgruntled with the hospital staff. It seemed Roanapur's devil may care attitude towards human safety affected even the doctors. From the look of concern on Rotton's face, the man had been at her bedside for quite some time. They just let him into her room? What carelessness! Had he been an assassin with ill intent, she'd have been dead by now.

"I shall go get the doctor," Rotton announced, beginning to rise from his seat.

"Don't bother," Shenhua hissed. "Doubt doctor care, and I been hurt many time before, know about recovery."

"You've been injured like this in the past?" Rotton asked, sitting back down in slight surprise. Shenhua cocked an eyebrow. The boy was acting as though she were an immortal.

"Not just like this, but there be bad times. That come with territory. That all you need to know," Shenhua said sternly. Her eyes widened an iota when another thought came to mind. "How Sawyer?"

"Only scrapes and bruises," Rotton confirmed. "No broken bones and not a single burn. She only needed a few bandages."

"How you find this out?" Shenhua asked.

"While you were in the operating room, I went to check on her."

"She still here?"

Rotton paused, and there was a tone of wariness in his voice when he said, "Yes. However, she..."

"She what, Wizard boy?"

"I went to see her," Rotton began. "She woke up slowly, and she seemed disoriented at first. I tried to speak to her, to let her know where she was. She appeared to be... lost. She looked around the room, before touching her throat. Then she started to panic and broke out in a cold sweat. I did not understand what caused this reaction and reached out to calm her down, but when I touched her shoulder, it seemed I had made the situation worse. She threw whatever objects she could obtain, made a mess of the room. In her panic, I could see she didn't recognize who I was... She was doing everything in her power to keep me away from her. She seemed frightened."

Rotton neglected to tell Shenhua that amidst the mayhem, Sawyer had kicked him squarely in the crotch with the thick sole of her boot. He was still recovering from the hit, and he made a mental note to purchase a cup in the future.

"Sawyer had broken the window with a chair," Rotton continued. "We were on the first floor, so she tried to escape. The staff interjected and had to restrain her. Then she fell into a catatonic trance. She... She's still in that state."

Shenhua listened quietly, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to her lips.

"I see," was all Shenhua murmured. She opened her eyes again and looked at him. "So you here in hospital all this time?"

Rotton nodded. Shenhua released a sharp laugh at that, before grimacing. Pain coursed out from her stitched wounds. Rotton reached out to her.

"Are you all right?"

"I fine, just careless," Shenhua whispered, the pain slowly ebbing, dulling. "It just funny."

"... What is it that is so amusing?" Rotton asked.

"You say you stay here. Look after me and Sawyer? That very funny," Shenhua smirked. "What kind of killer do that?"

"I cannot rest and let a woman die," Rotton said, leaning forward in his chair. "If something were to happen to you both, I would not forgive myself."

Shenhua had to restrain another laugh. Was this crazy boy for real? All that dedication and he had just met her a little over a day ago. That attitude was almost endearing, like a puppy that followed one home.

"You not get very far in this city if you guilty type," Shenhua advised. "You want to be top hunter, crazy boy? Accept death. It way of life, sometime it just happen. Many people die that way. Faster you get that, the better off you be as mercenary. Not be so sensitive, bleeding hearts not last long in Roanapur."

"If it is a qualm, then do not think of my gesture as the action of a bleeding heart. Think of it as a courtesy," Rotton suggested.

"... Courtesy?"

"Manners between fellow hunters," Rotton said. "It is only proper, I believe. After all, it is unbecoming of great freelancers to die on a job that offered so little pay. The spirit of an outlaw must be honored with worthy endeavors."

Shenhua shook her head with an amused smirk. The boy was certifiable. Some odd creation that looked to be something of a gigolo crossed with an action hero possessing a silver tongue and a rather daft head on his shoulders. Yet Shenhua could see not _all_ of his fancy words were for show. He had the spirit of a freelancer, the desire for the hunt was there. It was a trait she knew all too well. Perhaps this strange boy could, if nurtured correctly, grow into a proficient mercenary.

It also didn't hurt his chances that he'd saved her and Sawyer, so Shenhua supposed she could cut the boy some slack about his fancy words for the time being.

"Rotton," Shenhua said, finally using his name instead of a moniker. The name was foreign to her lips, yet it somehow felt natural. "You do favor for me?"

Rotton adjusted his shades, before saying, "Of course. What is it?"

"Go back to warehouse. I have idea..."

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**A/N: **Thus, Shenhua had decided that Rotton shall make a fine peach tree.

And now do I realize only a small handful of people are going to get that obscure movie reference. Oh well.

Scorpion and the Frog - For those who don't know that story, here it is in a nutshell: A scorpion asked a frog if he could ride across a river on his back. The frog asked, "How do I know you won't sting me on the way there?" The scorpion said, "Why would I sting you? I'd die if I did that. I can't swim." The frog then asked, "How do I know you won't sting me when we get to the other side?" The scorpion said, "I won't sting you when we get to the other side. Why would I? That's no way to show gratitude." The frog then agreed to take the scorpion across the river and as they reached the half-way point, the scorpion stung the frog. The frog asked, "WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?" and the scorpion said, "What can I say? It's just my nature."

Then they both died. The end.

Next chapter, the three amigos come together.

Cheers.


	4. Sawyer x Shenhua x Rotton

**EPILOGUE: TRIAD**

Never did Sawyer think a Wizard would be the one to give her voice back.

At Shenhua's request, Rotton had gone through the trouble of retrieving the old hand-held model from that wreck of a warehouse. During her melancholic state, the Ultravoice had been modified into the choker she was wearing, a simple black band with a circular speaker over the center of her scarred throat. It was different aesthetically, but the wiring and "voice" maintained the condition of the previous device: ghostly, rasped monotone.

She had thanked Rotton and Shenhua with a tight curtness, soaking in the events of the hunt and what happened afterward. Shenhua had taken note of how lucky the three of them were to survive that night.

The gothic woman had looked down at her feet in thought, dragging a finger along the scar on her neck. It wasn't the first time Sawyer had escaped the clutches of the Grim Reaper. Being a top freelance hunter, this certainly wasn't the first time Shenhua had cheated death herself either. Rotton... Well, Rotton's experiences were up for discussion. Perhaps the man was smarter than he seemed; he possessed the foresight to bring a bullet proof vest to a gun fight.

On the other hand, perhaps the angel of death could not, in good conscience, take the life of a man who stopped and posed and recited a speech in the heat of battle. He seemed to have a warped perception of how the reality of Roanapur worked, but Shenhua and Sawyer sense Rotton had some hidden potential.

In the coming weeks, the three of them interacted with one another on a regular basis. After meeting on the night of the failed hunt and seeing each other during his frequent visits to the hospital, Shenhua and Rotton had bonded easily. While Rotton's dramatics and mannerisms were odd, there was also something about the man's eccentricity she found charming.

Sawyer, however, needed time.

The Taiwanese freelancer served as a confidant for the young woman. Due to their working with each other on disposal jobs in the past, Sawyer was more familiar and comfortable with Shenhua than she was with Rotton. Sawyer didn't detest Rotton's company, but she always wore a stoic mask regardless of the circumstances. Shenhua understood why, and Rotton understood as well. All it took was one glance at the necklace of scarred flesh around Sawyer's neck to comprehend the reasoning behind her withdrawn attitudes.

Trust did not come so easily, but it was earned over time. Rotton found a common ground with her. Video games, oddly enough, would prove to be the ice breaker. Playing seemed to put the Cleaner's mind at ease, and Rotton found that the friendly matches helped Sawyer open up. She had become more comfortable around him.

Once Shenhua recuperated, they were finally able to work together in the field, and they lived together. There was a contentedness between the three of them, a bond that seemed almost natural. They were the epitome of a triad, three entities bonded by fate, three souls that coexisted with one another.

They were balanced.

"Rotton! Sawyer! The bills so fucking high! You freeloaders stop using so much hot water or I kicking you out my apartment!"

... Rather, they were as balanced as freelance criminals could be.

**THE END**


End file.
